


Souvenirs

by sorchafyre



Category: Star Wars
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 12:03:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorchafyre/pseuds/sorchafyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did you ever wonder where Obi-Wan got "Luke's father's" lightsaber, why he held onto it, and what else was in that trunk in his Tatooine home?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Souvenirs

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers and Acknowledgements: George Lucas owns all the characters related to Star Wars and that universe. Inspired by a Dan Fogelberg song of the same name. I highly suggest looking it up and listening to it. Italics indicate song lyrics, used only to bracket the story. First published 13-May-2004.

_And down in the canyon, the smoke starts to rise  
it rides on the wind 'til it reaches your eyes.  
When faced with the past, the strongest man cries,  
Cries._

 

Ben Kenobi looked around at the place he would be living for who-knew-how-long. To a Jedi, home is his own peaceful center of the Force, but everyone must dwell somewhere. This handful of sand-and-cement rooms was where he would be staying while he was watching over Luke Skywalker. Sighing, Ben took out his one vice, his only small defiance of the Jedi Code.

Possession was forbidden; nonetheless he held in his hands a bag of small objects that rarely left him. He laid them out on the bare table in front of him and regarded them. A twig, a bit of leather, a metal cylinder, a piece of duracrete and a rune-carved rock. Useless items; with one exception they held little intrinsic value. Worthless, really. Ben's eyes blurred as he regarded them. He reached out a trembling finger to touch the twig.

##################

Youngling Kenobi sat in the Temple Gardens, attempting to meditate. He was with his Clan, and he comforted himself with the thought that he wasn't the worst of them. He could be still, he could empty his mind of thoughts, but that "peaceful center" Master Yoda kept talking about was still a mystery to him.

Master Yoda was in front of him now, in fact. It seemed as if he were going to get some personal attention. "Obi, close your eyes." Master Yoda's voice was low and soothing. Obi did as he was bid. "Now relax. Empty your mind of thoughts, you must." Breathing through his impatience, Obi-Wan quickly complied. He knew he was good at this part. "Now, open your eyes, but look not." Well, that was confusing, but obediently Obi-Wan opened his eyes.

"What see you?" Yoda's voice was even more gentle, washing over him instead of intruding on his calmness. "A tree, Master." Obi replied, trying to understand how he was supposed to say what he saw but 'look not'.

"And where is the center of the tree Youngling, mmm?"

Obi thought about his reply. It was never a good idea to speak to Master Yoda without consideration. Still, he couldn't see any other answer. "In the middle, Master. The thick part." "Mmmm." Yoda replied, taking a step toward the tree. "No. Here is the center." he said emphatically, pointing to the end of a small branch near his head. As Obi-Wan stared at it, he had a sudden epiphany. His perceptions whirled; shifted. He saw the Force in the twig, the way it eddied and flowed to the trunk, the way the trunk flowed back through it. The center of the Force was everywhere, and nowhere. Like a wave, or sunlight, the Force had no boundaries, therefore it could have no center. Each living thing within the Force was it's own center.

"Yes," Yoda's voice was thick with satisfaction, "See now, you do." He left Obi-Wan to explore his new perceptions, and find his center.

It was much later that night Obi stole out to the Gardens and snapped off the twig.

###################

Padawan Kenobi sat in the large room of the quarters assigned to Master Jinn. It had been only yesterday Qui-Gon and he had formalized their relationship as Master and Padawan, and Obi-Wan was still unsure about his welcome. There were times when he felt the power of the Force swirling around them, connecting them as if they could read each other's thoughts. But there were other times when Qui-Gon seemed completely cut off from him, as though deliberately rejecting the bond.

As if Obi's thoughts had summoned him, Qui-Gon strode into the room, seating himself on the large chair across from Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon yanked out the leather tie holding back his hair and tossed it on the table. "Some Counsel sessions," he said wearily, "are longer than others." Obi-Wan looked at him sympathetically.

"I've felt that way in some of my lectures." he offered, almost adding the honorific Master, but still too unsure of his rights. "Can I help you relax?"

Closing his eyes and exhaling, Master Jinn just nodded once. Obi looked at him in confusion. When he made his offer, he though Qui-Gon would give him some idea of what he wanted. He wasn't sure what he should do, but guessed this was some kind of lesson, or test. Some days it seemed that everything was some kind of test. As Obi rose to move behind Qui-Gon, the larger man spoke, weariness evident in his voice. "I've cleared out the medidation room for you. I sent for your things and arranged them while you were in class."

Obi-Wan hid his surprise. He knew that Padawans kept quarters with their Masters, but he hadn't realized all the details involved. Obviously Qui-Gon had, and this thoughtfulness on Qui-Gon's part left him feeling a bit better. He moved around the older man and put his hands on Qui-Gon's temples. Obi felt him tense, and his heart sank again. As he massaged Qui- Gon's temples, trying to send soothing, healing thoughts, Obi realized Qui- Gon still wasn't used to having someone around, being touched, trusting someone fully.

Then Qui-Gon relaxed, opened his eyes and stared straight into Obi's. Even upside-down they pierced through to his heart, and gave nothing but acceptance. "Thank you, my Padawan." The Force pulsed, strong and clear, and Obi-Wan knew beyond all questioning that Qui-Gon wanted him here, that he would be a true Master. Obi silently pledged to love and respect him, and be a true Padawan.

Long after Qui-Gon had risen and left the room, Obi picked up his Master's discarded hair tie.

#####################

Master Kenobi turned over Anakin's lightsaber, feeling the smoothness of the metal. Using the Force to cloak himself from Anakin's notice, he watched the younger man practice his drills.

Anakin had made himself a new lightsaber. Obi-Wan supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, the boy was always working on something. Their rooms were littered with mechanical parts, and sometimes Obi thought his Padawan achieved better meditation when he was "tinkering" than when he sat still.

But the fact Anakin had made a lightsaber without his guidance, without even his knowledge, troubled Obi-Wan. He watched Anakin practice with his new lightsaber. The young man was impressive; muscles under strict control, body passing through the moves of the drill with smooth grace.

The the Force haloed Anakin, and Obi-Wan felt faint. Visions were rarely granted him, his connection was stronger in other areas, but in that one instant Obi saw Anakin as the greatest Jedi who ever lived. Nobility flowed from the possible-future-Anakin and his fairness and compassion shone from his aura. Other possible-Anakins shadowed off the edges of reality, but none so strong as that briefly-glimpsed hero.

Obi released the future-vision into the Force, but with it went his shielding. Anakin suddenly became aware his Master was in the room. Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, face shining with excitement.

"Master! I've got a surprise for you. Come see what I've made."

Holding on to the vision of Anakin's potential, Obi-Wan tucked his Padawan's original lightsaber into his robes.

####################

General Kenobi stood on a small rise, unmoving. He stared impassively at the rubble before him; all that was left of the Jedi Temple. He had not been here for the destruction of the building, it had been too dangerous for him on Corusant during the purge. Now the Force drew him here, witness to the ruins of a symbol. He walked around the desolation, eyes drawn to pick out familiar areas. Here was where the Counsel rooms had once been, here was the area where he had shared quarters with Qui-Gon. A forlorn plant still struggled to bloom, marking the area once filled with quiet lushness; the Temple Gardens. Dispationately, Obi-Wan turned his back on the green shoot and moved on.

His feet paused at a small mound of debris. Obi did not need the confirmation of the Force to know that this was the spot he had parted from Anakin for the last time. The death of a friendship, the end of love resonated from here like heat shimmers on a hot desert dune.

Numbly, almost involuntarily, Obi-Wan reached down and picked up a small piece of duracrete.

####################

Ben Kenobi held the last of his mementos in his hand, tears streaking his face. The rune carved in the rock represented his name: Obi-Wan. He had long suspected Mace knew of his possessions, but the older Jedi had said nothing. One day Mace had surprised him by handing him the small stone, saying only: "This is for you. To help you remember who you are." Obi-Wan felt the Force so strongly at that moment his senses were overwhelmed. His name shone from the rock and he connected to it with an almost audible sound. That was the last time he had seen Mace alive.

Releasing his emotions to the Force, he swept his mementos from the table and moved to the one luxury his hut contained; a beautifuly carved wooden chest. He opened the lid and placed his souvenirs on top of his Jedi robes. He held the stone until the last. Briefly, he brought it to his lips. Lightly brushing its smooth surface, he laid a final kiss upon the past, tossed it into the trunk, and gently closed the lid.

He was a Jedi. He would always be a Jedi. But he would never again be Obi- Wan.

 _And here is a sunrise to set on your sill,  
the ghost of the dawn woven here.  
To pass through your sorrow and leave you quite still,  
sitting among souvenirs_.


End file.
